


When the Dust Settles Down

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, I ever tell you how I met that asshole?” Jason asks, leaning over Dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Dust Settles Down

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for how Tim and Jason met before Tim died in the Fortunes Fade 'verse, so. Here, have this :)?
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place sometime after Where Night Conquers Day and Bruce is back as Batman and Dick is back as Nightwing while Jason's being Red Robin and the whatnot. *hands*

Tim's ribs aren't too happy with him, screaming protest every time he moves. Jason has a broken leg, and Dick - 

Jason's huddled around Dick in spite of his leg, one hand resting over Dick's heart because -

“Hey, I ever tell you how I met that asshole?” Jason asks, leaning over Dick. 

Dick's holding on. Stubborn as ever, using Jason's voice as a focusing point.

“I remember a lot of swearing?” Dick manages.

Tim laughs, so, so tired, but. 

He'll play along for this.

“When isn't there, with him?” 

“Hey, I'm not that bad,” Jason snaps, glaring at Tim. “Also, fuck you.”

There's this painful sounding wheeze from Dick that has Jason shooting Tim a wide-eyed look of thinly veiled fear, and Tim.

“Shut up, Dick,” Tim says, makes his way over to them ignoring the fact that he's probably past the neighborhood of fractured ribs and well into the territory of definitely broken ribs. 

He's almost certainly courting punctured lungs by this point, actually, but. 

This is worth it.

“You sound horrible.”

Dick looks at him.

“Shut up.”

There's.

He's smiling, and Tim.

“Fucking _Croc_ ," Jason says, glares at Tim because -

“Seriously, fuck you.”

Because Tim had said _No_ , had said _Jason, no, this is a bad idea_ , and also, _Dick, no, don't encourage him, no_ , and yet. 

Here they are.

Two Reds and a Nightwing, trapped in one of the abandoned subway stations under Gotham, like their own bad joke.

Tim had had no choice but to bring the tunnel leading out down to keep Croc from killing them. 

(There had been the part where Croc threw them around for a bit first, laughing and laughing and laughing when he broke this bone or that one, Caught Dick up against a tunnel wall before Tim could get to him, Jason yelling, gunfire deafening in the enclosed space.)

And now they've got nothing but time, waiting to see if it's going to be Bruce and Damian who find them first or one of the others. 

“He was a damn mess when we met, I ever tell you that?” Jason asks, tapping Dick's forehead to get his attention. “Seriously, idiot was gushing blood. Crying too.”

Tim slides a look at Jason. “You're a horrible liar.”

Jason's eyes narrow. 

“Tears,” he says, gesturing at his own eyes. “Big fat tears all over the place.” A pause, Jason looking down at Dick. “He's an ugly crier.”

“I know,” Dick says, tries for a whisper. “Everyone knows.”

Tim looks at him, a little bit broken but still holding on because it's one of the things he knows best, a trait they all share for whatever reason, and.

Tim regrets a lot of things in his life.

Regrets so many of the choices that have led him here, the ones that left Bruce and the others behind when he died. That put them at odds when he came back to Gotham, and again when he took Jason to look for Bruce.

He hadn't seen any other choice all those times, hadn't seen another alternative no matter how hard he'd looked. Had taken a straight line every time, had made decisions that cost him again and again and again and knows himself well enough to know he'd do it all over again, knowing the regrets that would go hand in hand with those choices. 

But.

He's trying now. Trying harder because there's Jason. Damian. 

Looks at them and sees what he could have been, maybe, because of Bruce and Dick. Alfred. Barbara, Cass, Steph. So many others.

(Looks at them, and sees the way they look at _him_.)

For all of Tim's regrets, decisions, prices paid, there's. 

There's this.

Dick looking at him with the the smile he gets when he's teasing someone he cares about. Jason laughing quietly to himself, comfortable in his skin now that he's found his place in the world again.

It's taken time, and patience to get where they are now. (So much patience.)

There have been mistakes, here and there, because they're human and this life is not the easiest, does its best to break them. (Succeeds too, but wounds heal and scars fade.)

“You screamed,” Tim says.

“Who the hell wouldn't when you just showed up out of nowhere?” Jason demands. “I was minding my own damn business - “

“You were trying to steal the tires off the Redbird,” Tim interrupts. 

Dick's looking between them, delight in his eyes. “What, seriously?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Jason asks, like the answer is obvious. “You parked it in Crime Alley.”

Dick's looking at him, suddenly quiet and Tim.

“Bruce was off-planet with the League,” Tim says, can't look at Dick right now. “You were with the Titans.”

And Tim had a pair of roses with him that night because Bruce couldn't be there.

“Tim - “

“I found him fighting with the lug nuts,” Tim says. 

“And then this asshole says, he says,” Jason says, glaring at Tim. “'Those always stick, I keep meaning to take a look at it, but I never have the time.'”

Tim remembers it clearly, one of the few memories he has from before the Pit that isn't hazy, tainted. (He wants to think that means something, for all the memories he has of Bruce and the others like that.)

Remembers seeing some scruffy looking kid who was maybe a few years younger than him struggling with the lug nuts, wearing under his breath and knocking the Redbird with the lug wrench he was using.

Tim walking up behind him and watching for a few moments before speaking, trying so hard not to laugh when Jason jumped, screaming and flailing out with the lug wrench.

He hadn't been bleeding at the time, or _crying_ , no. 

That had been the next time they met, the bleeding, at least. Tim stepping in when Jason got in over his head with some thugs harassing people in his neighborhood, Tim catching a knife in his arm and Jason being an ungrateful brat. (And there was no crying then, either.)

Dick's watching him, careful, so careful. 

“You told us you cornered too fast, hit some railing.”

Tim looks at Dick then. “I can't believe you remember that.”

Dick.

Dick closes his eyes for a moment, tired little smile. “Why wouldn't I remember that? Bruce took the Redbird away from you for what was it, a month?”

“What?”

“Try three,” Tim says, grimacing at the memory. “And he wouldn't let me touch the Batmobile at all after that.” (Still won't, for that matter.)

“Wait,” Jason says, slow. “Is that why I got The Lecture?”

Tim has no idea what that means, but Dick apparently does because he starts wheezing again, startling Jason.

“Knock it off,” Tim says, raps his knuckles against Dick's forehead. “You're scaring him.”

_”Hey!”_

“Bruce,” Dick says, when he's got his breathing under control. “He gave Jason a lecture about driving responsibly when Bruce gave him the bike.”

Tim.

“Driving responsibly while engaged in high-speed pursuits?”

He can see it, though. 

“I know, right?” Jason asks. “I wanted to ask him if he could hear himself, but. The bike.” 

So much scrap now, lost in some fight or another, but Tim remembers when Bruce had given him the keys to the Redbird.

Tim opens his mouth to say something, what he's not sure, but the comm in his ear sputters to life.

“Still alive down there?” Barbara asks. “Help's on the way.”

Tim looks at Jason, at Dick. Feels a smile take form.

“We're holding on,” he says.

(It's one of the things they do best, a family trait.)


End file.
